One flutter of her drapery,
One glimpse of limbs, or hair, or eyes
Of beautiful Iothera.
THE LIMNAD
I
The lake she haunts gleams mistily
Through sleepy boughs of melody,—
Lost 'mid lone hills beside the sea,
One flutter of her drapery,
One glimpse of limbs, or hair, or eyes
Of beautiful Iothera.
I
The lake she haunts gleams mistily
Through sleepy boughs of melody,—
Lost 'mid lone hills beside the sea,